Darkness Comes at Dawn
by PhaiFan
Summary: Rumors of Alexander's death are spreading, and Hephaestion struggles to cope. Can the rumors be true?
1. Chapter 1

_I may have taken a few liberties with the facts, so if I'm not historically accurate on everything, it may or may not be deliberate._

* * *

Hephaestion woke with a start, his heart racing and drenched in sweat. This was the third time in as many days that he had woken up like this, from some nightmare he couldn't quite recall. As each time before, he looked around the inner room of his tent, seeing nothing out of place and no one else there. He threw the bed covers aside and sat up on the side of the bed, drawing a deep breath to calm himself. There was little point in trying to go back to sleep now, even though it was very early; the sun had not even begun to rise.

He got up and threw on a robe before barking some orders at his nearly dozing guards and ordering a bath to be drawn and breakfast brought to him. He was not in the mood to dine with the others this morning. Days of marching and constantly being on alert for Malians that were fleeing from Alexander and his men had taken their toll. He was exhausted. Malians! They were a thorn in his side to be sure. They thought they could escape, and often challenged Hephaestion's troops, but quickly learned they were no match and most gave up.

Normally calm and easy going, he had been short tempered and impatient these last few days. A frown creased his brow, his lips set in a firm line. His men had been walking on eggshells around him and he knew it, for which he felt slightly guilty.

His bath was prepared and a meal brought in, so he banished everyone from his tent, wanting the quiet solitude to try and rest his mind. He settled himself into his bath, leaning back against the side of the tub and closing his eyes. The warm, soothing water did little to relax the tension in his muscles. He could not seem to shake this strange feeling that he had…a sick dread for which he had no explanation.

The feeling had struck him suddenly a few days ago while riding out on patrol with some of his men. The day had been going well, and had been relatively quiet, when suddenly he had an almost overwhelming feeling of alarm. There was nothing to be seen when he glanced around. They had finished their patrol and found no Malians in the area. There was nothing. So why this feeling? He did not know.

Trying to shake the feeling of dread was not working, but he did his best to ignore it as he dressed for the day. Another day spent in armor, patrolling for Malian natives. More fighting, more killing…just as it had been for days on end it seemed. He was not looking forward to it.

There was a small group of men huddled near his tent as he left it. He glared at them and they scattered, each returning to whatever duties they had. Everywhere he went he heard hushed murmurings and saw men congregating in small groups, talking amongst themselves. No one seemed to want to meet his eye, and most quickly left if he approached.

What in Hades was going on? It was beginning to piss him off.

"Damon!" he barked at his page.

The boy rushed to his side, immediately at attention. His commander's mood had not been pleasant lately, even with him. "Yes, General? What may I do for you?"

Hephaestion wore a frown, his brows creased. "Damon, do you know why everyone is acting so strangely today? I want to know what the fuck is going on!" He noticed that Damon cringed slightly and suddenly looked very uncomfortable. "Spill it, boy. What is going on? And why is everyone avoiding me?"

Damon hesitated, terrified to speak the words. "Commander, there are rumors…"

Hephaestion stomped his foot in frustration. "Rumors? All of this over some rumor? Tell me, what is it that disturbs everyone so? Speak, if you know of it!"

Damon swallowed hard and took a deep breath. "Sir, it is about Alexander…"

Hephaestion lost what little patience he had left. "Damn it, Damon. I order you to tell me everything you know, NOW!"

"The rumors, sir…they are saying that King Alexander is…that he has…Sir, they are saying that he has been killed."

Hephaestion felt his blood turn to ice. No…it couldn't be…


	2. Chapter 2

Hephaestion managed to keep his face neutral and not react to the statement.

He spoke quietly and deliberately. "Who is saying this, Damon? Who is spreading such a thing?"

"A messenger arrived from King Alexander's camp, sir. He said that the King had been shot in battle…and that he had been clinging to life. The rumor is that he has died from his injury. Word is spreading like wildfire throughout the camp. Sir…everyone was afraid to tell you."

Hephaestion was silent for a moment. "I must speak with this messenger. Go and find him, now."

Damon nodded. "Yes, sir. I will bring him to you." He turned and hurried away.

There were no words for what Hephaestion felt at that moment. Truthfully, he felt nothing. He was numb. His mind couldn't absorb…couldn't accept…what he had just been told.

No, the rumors were simply that. Alexander was not dead. He couldn't be. Hephaestion shook his head. No, he would not accept it.

He made his way to where the other Generals were gathered. They were huddled together like the others he had seen, no doubt talking about Alexander.

Medius looked up and saw Hephaestion approaching, elbowing Nearchus in the ribs and nodding in Hephaestion's direction. Several sets of eyes landed on him as he walked towards them and all conversation stopped.

Hephaestion was irritated. "Don't stop talking on my account! Unless you've something to hide…"

Nearchus shook his head. "No, Hephaestion, we were just talking about…"

"About Alexander and those stupid rumors, right?" Hephaestion interrupted.

The men exchanged a look and turned back towards Hephaestion. "Well, yes" Medius stated. "Hephaestion, is it true?"

Hephaestion scowled at them. "How the fuck would I know? I only just heard of it a little while ago! Everyone seems to know more than I do. Tell me, what is being said?"

Just then, Damon trotted up to Hephaestion, taking a moment to catch his breath. "I found the messenger, sir. He is on his way. Should I bring him here or take him to your quarters?"

"Bring him here. I want all of us to hear what he has to say, first hand."

"Fine, sir. I will do that right away." Damon took off again.

The Generals stood and looked at each other, an awkward silence between them. No one would meet Hephaestion's eyes and no one dared say anything to him. If Alexander truly was dead…none of them know how Hephaestion would react.

They waited in silence.

A short time later, Damon returned with a young man in tow. The man looked terrified.

Hephaestion took a deep breath and tried to remain calm when he spoke. "You are the messenger who brought the information about Alexander?"

The young man nodded respectfully. "Yes, General. I am Amyntas, son of Nicomedes. I am the one you seek."

"What message did you bring, exactly, Amyntas? Who gave you the message?"

"I came from King Alexander's camp, sent by Peucestas with word of the King."

Hephaestion sighed impatiently. "And what word is there?"

The man looked around at the group of men gathered there before turning his attention back on Hephaestion. "I was given the message that King Alexander has been shot with an arrow. His wounds are grave, but he is yet alive, though barely." He paused. "Sir, if I may, I will say that most of the men do not believe me. They feel that the King's companions are hiding his death to avoid panicking the men. That is what is being said, sir."

Hephaestion looked at the others. "Is this what you are hearing as well?"

Nearchus nodded. "Yes, that seems to be what most of the men believe. They are afraid of what will happen to us without Alexander to lead us. Some of them are angry and fear they will never get back home. There is much sadness as well. Morale is crumbling quickly."

Craterus had been silent until now. "I will speak with the men and reassure them. We need to begin to make plans for our return if indeed Alexander has been killed. We will have much ahead of us. My men can take the lead if we return home."

Eummenes nodded his support for that idea, not being overly fond of Hephaestion in the first place.

"No!" Hephaestion said in a loud voice, his expression hardened. "No. Alexander is not dead. You are giving up on him based on a rumor! I will do no such thing. We will wait for further word. And Craterus, if you recall, Alexander put ME in charge here, not you. I will decide where we go from here and what actions, if any, that we will take." He stared hard at Craterus, openly challenging him to disagree.

Nearchus spoke up quickly, hoping to diffuse the tension between them. "I agree with Hephaestion that we should wait for further word. We may be worrying for nothing. Let's not get ahead of ourselves."

Craterus mumbled something under his breath and glared at Hephaestion. "Fine. We wait. But if the time comes, Hephaestion, we will continue this conversation." He turned and walked off.

The others breathed a sigh of relief, glad that the disagreement had not escalated.

"Everyone is dismissed. Go to your men and do your best to assure them that the King is still alive and that we wait for word from him. I cannot stress how important it is to keep them calm and controlled right now. I will speak with you later. Health to you all." Hephaestion turned on his heel and walked quickly away, headed towards his tent.

Once inside, he dismissed his pages and slaves, leaving him alone. He sank down on his bed with his head in his hands.

"No, Alexander. I know you are still alive. I refuse to believe otherwise." He felt a tear escape from his eye and brushed it away angrily. "No. I will not do this."

Suddenly he felt like the weight of the world rested upon his shoulders, and he had never felt more alone in his life.


	3. Chapter 3

Days went by with no further news from Alexander's camp. Morale had sunk to an all time low and the men were barely keeping it together.

Hephaestion was exhausted. He tried his best to keep everyone from thinking the worst, but he was fighting a losing battle…one that was especially hard when even some of the other generals believed that Alexander was most likely dead.

It was incredibly hard, but Hephaestion had to put his own emotions aside since he still had a job to do. There were still Malians out there, and his orders had not changed. They were to capture any natives that tried to escape, and kill any that fought them.

He had managed to avoid further conflict with Craterus, mostly because he made sure to stay away from him. He hated the man, to be honest, and he knew that if Alexander truly did die, he was going to have a major battle on his hands since Craterus felt like he should be the one to lead them in Alexander's absence.

Hephaestion was still in a state of shock, but he did not have the luxury of allowing his feelings to show in any way. Other than his anger, that is. He was quick to shout at his men, quick to argue, and as nasty tempered as he used to accuse Cassander of being. He did not care. Anger was better than the anguish and depression that he fought against every day. At least anger was something tangible he could feel and express.

Consequently, most of the men left him alone unless absolutely necessary.

He had ridden out alone a couple times, though it probably wasn't the smartest thing to do considering where they were, but again he didn't care. He had ridden far away from camp, far from prying eyes and ears, and shouted at the top of his lungs…cursing the gods one moment and begging for their help the next.

He pleaded with them, offering his own life if Alexander's would just be spared. He sacrificed to Asclepius and bargained with Father Zeus, anything he could think of. Yet more days went by with no word.

Hephaestion had, at first, refused to even consider that Alexander may have been killed, but the more time that went by, the more he started to have doubts. He didn't eat and barely slept, his mind in denial one moment, consumed with anger the next. He had too many responsibilities to have time to indulge his feelings. He had to bury them deep, pretend things were as normal. The men depended on him. If Alexander truly was dead, it fell to him to lead them home, despite what Craterus thought.

He rode out each morning before dawn to offer his prayers to the gods, not convinced they were going to do any good, but afraid not to at least try.

After returning from his morning sacrifices one day, he was met by a group of his men.

"Commander! We have captured a group of Malians that were trying to escape. They tried to fight us, but we captured them. What would you have us do with them?"

Hephaestion's heart was hardened, and for the first time in his life he understood what it was like to be ruthless. He would make them pay for what they had done to Alexander.

"Kill them" he stated.

The men looked shocked. Hephaestion normally wanted prisoners interrogated and enslaved unless they continued to fight. These men had finally given themselves up.

"Sir?"

Hephaestion glared at the men and spoke, his voice low and deadly. "You heard me. Kill them. Kill them all."

At that, he turned and rode away, leaving an astonished group of men in his wake.


	4. Chapter 4

Ptolemy and his men arrived at the confluence camp and were immediately bombarded with rumors of Alexander's death. After giving orders to the men and making sure everything was under control, Ptolemy set out in search of Hephaestion. He found him in his tent.

Hephaestion's guards at first did not want to let him enter, as the General had given orders that he did not wish to be disturbed. Upon hearing Ptolemy's voice, however, Hephaestion called out to them. "Let him enter."

Ptolemy was stunned by what he saw. Hephaestion's tent was in total disarray. The normally neatly organized general had papers strewn all about his desk and on the floor. A clay jar had been thrown against the pole in the center of the tent, judging from the wine stains on the pole and the shards of broken pottery on the floor around it.

Hephaestion himself looked awful. He looked thin and pale. His normally glossy long hair was tangled and looked dirty, and his clothes were dusty and looked slept-in. His eyes were the worst of it. They were red-rimmed and looked hollow and devoid of life.

Hephaestion looked up from his papers, a tiny spark of hope appearing in his eyes. "Ptolemy, tell me you have news of Alexander!"

His hope died quickly when Ptolemy shook his head sadly. "No, Hephaestion. I've only just arrived, and heard the men talking about Alexander. They are saying he was shot, that he may be dead." He shook his head again, this time in disbelief. "Tell me this isn't true, Hephaestion!"

Hephaestion swallowed hard and looked away, willing himself not to break down. "I would that I could, Ptolemy. I know nothing more. We received word from a royal messenger nearly a week ago that Alexander had been shot and was clinging to life. The rumors have it that he may even be dead. We've heard nothing since then."

Ptolemy was in shock, and he didn't really know what to say. "Hephaestion…" he began.

Hephaestion looked up, catching Ptolemy's eye. This was one of few people he could trust. "What am I to do?" he interrupted. "Alexander can't be dead. The men all think it. The generals are fighting amongst themselves over what to do. Craterus is trying to take over command, even though Alexander left me in charge. He has several of the others on his side. Nearchus and Medius are trying to hold things together with the others. The men are confused and worried. Thanks to Craterus and Eummenes, half of them don't trust me to lead them, if it comes to that. Morale is non-existent. I spend my days trying to put out fires, but each time I do twenty more spring up in its place." He rubbed his eyes and dropped his face into his hands. He looked up again with such a look of sorrow that it nearly brought Ptolemy to tears. "Ptolemy, what the fuck am I supposed to do?"

Ptolemy frowned, not at all surprised to hear about Craterus and his efforts to overthrow Hephaestion. "I don't know, Hephaestion, but you know you have my support. I will do all that I can to help and keep things calm." He looked Hephaestion over briefly. "How are you holding up, my friend? If I may say so, you look like shit.

"If you want the truth, I am not doing very well" Hephaestion stated. "I cannot eat, I cannot sleep, and I have to be on constant alert. I still have my duties regarding the Malians to attend to, plus all the administrative duties I normally have. All that, and now I'm struggling to prevent a mutiny! I have no time to grieve, even if the rumor is true. If I showed myself to be vulnerable, they would rip me to pieces." He stood and slammed his fist down on the desk. "I should have been there, Ptolemy! I should have been at his side. I could have protected him! I would have taken that arrow instead of him. He would be alive and all would be well!" His voice rose as anger and fear filled him.

Ptolemy moved towards him and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Hephaestion, you probably couldn't have stopped him if you had been there. You know Alexander! He throws caution to the wind. You know as well as I that he is rash and impulsive sometimes, and he seems to think he is invincible. I am not sure what happened this time, but I doubt you could have prevented it."

Hephaestion shook his head, quite agitated. "Still, If I'd been there…"

His words were interrupted by his page Damon stumbling into his tent. The boy bent over, trying to catch his breath. He'd obviously been running. "Commander, sir…" he panted, "a messenger…a messenger has arrived from King Alexander's camp. He is on his way here."

Hephaestion was immediately on edge, a chill running up his spine despite the heat of the day. He wasn't sure if the news would be good, or if it would bring his world crashing down around him.

"Ptolemy, would you please gather the others? Have them all meet in the council tent. Damon? Take the messenger there as well. I will be right behind you."

After the others had left he offered a quick prayer to any gods that would listen. Alexander had to be alright, or the furies themselves would be unleashed. He dressed quickly in a clean chiton and threw his red cloak over his shoulders, knowing all eyes would be on him. Whatever he did or said in this meeting could either unite them, or destroy them all. He took a deep breath and left his tent, still praying that the news was good.


	5. Chapter 5

By the time Hephaestion made his way to their meeting, the others were already there and waiting. Silence greeted him, several pairs of eyes watching him as he walked to the front of the room. Turning to face the men, he took a deep breath to steady himself. He saw a mixture of fear and apprehension from most, and outright hostility from some.

"Gentlemen, we have just received a letter from Alexander's camp. I wanted to read it to you all, here, now."

He turned towards the messenger and held out his hand, taking the scroll from the younger man who bowed his head respectfully. Hephaestion fought hard to keep his own hands from trembling as he unrolled the parchment. He could not afford to show fear or uncertainty.

He read the letter over quickly, feeling his heart pounding at the ending. Dare he hope? He felt emotions wash over him, threatening to break his composure, but he straightened his spine and did his best to keep his face neutral.

"Well?" Craterus said impatiently, "are you going to tell us what it says?. What news is there?"

Hephaestion exchanged a brief look with Ptolemy, who nodded at him encouragingly. Clearing his throat, he looked around at the other generals. "The letter says that Alexander is indeed still alive…"

He was interrupted by shouts of joy and cheering from some, looks of skepticism from others. He waited patiently for the room to settle down before continuing.

"The letter does state that Alexander has been shot but that he has survived, though barely. Abreas was killed protecting the King, Leonnatus and Peucestas were injured defending him. By the time it was all said and done, the men slaughtered every living thing in the city to avenge Alexander."

Hephaestion stopped, reading a little farther ahead in the letter, shaking his head incredulously. "It says here…" he paused, taking another deep breath, "it says that Alexander is coming here…that he will be here in within a week." He could scarcely believe what he had just read.

Medius frowned. "If he was hurt that badly, is it safe for him to travel that far, so soon?"

"You know Alexander" Nearchus shook his head. "I would expect nothing less from him. He truly believes he is invincible." He sighed. "Let's hope he's right."

Craterus was still skeptical. "How do we know this is true? How do we know they aren't covering up his death to keep the men from panicking?"

Hephaestion was quite tired of Craterus and his constant negativity, not to mention the fact that the man was chomping at the bit to take command away from him. Hephaestion walked over and stood in front of Craterus, shoving the parchment in front of his face. "Because he signed it himself!" He indicated Alexander's scrawling signature at the bottom of the letter.

Ptolemy shot Craterus a dirty look before turning his eyes on Hephaestion. "I suppose we just wait now. If Alexander says he's coming, then I for one have no doubt that he will be here as he stated."

Nearchus pondered all this a moment. "Hephaestion, how will we convince the men that he lives still? Most of them believe him to be dead already. I suspect many of them will believe this letter is a concoction of Alexander's high command and his bodyguards to keep order."

Hephaestion nodded. "Well, then, it is our job to convince them otherwise." He sighed and rolled the parchment back up, tossing it onto the table. "I don't have to tell you how important it is to maintain order and try to keep morale up. We cannot afford to have panic and disorder. Should the Malians believe that Alexander is dead, they will no doubt try to retaliate. We have to keep our guard up. The men need to be aware of that, more so than before." He crossed his arms and looked around the room. "That is all for now. I'll let you know if I receive further word. In the meantime, we all know what we have to do."

The generals filed out, talking quietly amongst themselves. Hephaestion wasn't so sure they really believed that Alexander was alive and coming here, but they had to sell it to their men regardless.

Ptolemy was one of the last to leave. He turned to Hephaestion and laid a hand on his shoulder. "My friend, I don't envy you. But you have my support." He smiled gently at an exhausted looking Hephaestion. "If you need anything, just ask." He turned and left Hephaestion alone.

Hephaestion sighed heavily and sank down into a chair, dropping his face into his hands. He wasn't sure what he felt at the moment. Part of him felt like crying from sheer relief, but another part of him, part that he would never admit to anyone, was afraid to believe it was true. A tiny part of him wondered…what if he really is dead?

He stood, shaking his head in disgust. No. He refused to believe that. He couldn't afford to. He would make his sacrifices to Asclepius in the morning and pray that all would be well. May the gods help them all.


	6. Chapter 6

Hephaestion had just about reached his limit. He spent his days patrolling with his men for escaping Malians, and trying to keep order with an army of men who were, quite frankly, scared and on edge. It was as he had feared; most of them didn't believe the letter and were convinced that it was sent to assuage them and cover up the truth. They were afraid of what would happen if Alexander truly was dead. How would they get home? They were in a difficult place geographically, surrounded by natives who would like nothing more than to move against them to recapture their cities and defeat the great Alexander's army.

Hephaestion was quite aware that there was a good deal of skepticism regarding his ability to lead them, thanks in part to the poison words of Craterus, Eummenes, and a few others who sided with them. Craterus was obviously bitter that Alexander had put Hephaestion in charge, rather than himself, and was dividing the army and further worsening morale. A high percentage of the men simply wanted to take their chances and leave. The already unhappy troops were threatening mutiny. They had never wanted to be here in the first place.

In private, Hephaestion continued to hold his emotions in. He refused to give in to them, afraid that if he allowed himself to cry he wouldn't be able to stop. A cold fear gripped his heart that he could not shake. He still barely ate or slept. He knew he had lost weight and, as Ptolemy had so eloquently put it, looked like shit. Not that he much cared. He maintained his stoic façade and kept his tenuous hold over his command, being quick to discipline anyone who acted to disrupt the thin thread of order that they clung to. He did not like being such a harsh disciplinarian, but he had little choice. If he loosened his grip on what little control he had, it would be as if the Furies themselves would be unleashed. Chaos and disorder would reign.

It had been nearly a week since they had received word that Alexander was supposed to arrive, if indeed the letter was accurate. Hephaestion was on edge, even more so than he had been of late. He didn't want to get his hopes up, yet he tried to appear positive and hopeful for the good of his men. His head hurt, his heart ached, and he secretly feared the worst. If he lost Alexander, he lost everything. They all did.

He sat at his table, surrounded by paperwork and administrative matters that demanded his attention. As tired as he was of paperwork, it was almost a welcome change from patrolling the surrounding area for Malians. He would have been happy to never see another Malian as long as he lived. Truth be told, he didn't want to be here, either. He would never confess this to Alexander. Supporting Alexander, with all his dreams and ambitions, was Hephaestion's life…a life he had willingly chosen. That did not mean, however, that he was not at times plagued with doubts and trepidation. So far the gods had blessed them, at least until now. Now, he wondered if the gods had abandoned them. Had Alexander gone too far this time? Only time would tell.

He finished his third cup of wine and sat up, stretching his sore back and shoulders. He knew he should probably eat something, but he had no appetite. Medius had been scolding him lately for not taking care of himself. He would eat, he promised…later.

"Commander!" his page Damon ran into the room, obviously excited about something. "I have word…Nearchus sent me to tell you that King Alexander's ships have been spotted up river, heading this way. They should be here by this evening." The boy gave a tentative smile. "It's really true, isn't it? Alexander lives?"

Hephaestion forgot to breathe for a moment and felt a lump form in his throat. Forcing himself to stay calm, he stood. "It would seem so, Damon. Thank you for bringing me this news. Please, go and tell the others."

"Yes, sir." Damon trotted out of the room, heading for where the other generals were gathered for their morning meal.

Could it be? Was the letter true after all? For the first time in quite a while, Hephaestion allowed himself a glimmer of hope and felt a tear escape the corner of his eye as emotions fought to come to the surface. He brushed away the tear and kept himself in check. He had to maintain his composure, no matter what. Vulnerability would be his undoing.

With a sigh, he threw his cloak over his shoulders and left his tent to meet with the others. He said a quick prayer as he walked. Alexander just had to be okay…he HAD to be.


	7. Chapter 7

Word had spread through the camp like wildfire, and by the time mid afternoon had come, most of the army was gathered near the riverbanks, waiting for Alexander's ship to appear. The men were still skeptical, though not quite as badly as before.

"There!" Medius shouted to the others. All heads turned to look up river. Several ships were seen, with Alexander's flagship leading the way. Excited murmurs echoed through the crowds on the banks and the men pressed close, wanting to get a glimpse of their King.

The awning was down over the stern of the ship, so they could see nothing at first. Many of the men believed that it was Alexander's corpse that was being carried to them, and cries and lamentations could be heard, rising in volume as the ship approached. The covering was removed, but they could see nothing but the body of a man lying on a bed.

Hephaestion stood motionless, no expression on his face and speaking to no one. Ptolemy and Medius stood with him, also maintaining a silent vigil. Hephaestion found himself holding his breath and forced himself to remain calm, releasing a slow breath while keeping his eyes glued to the ship.

Surely this was not merely Alexander's corpse. Surely the gods could not be so cruel. The last words they had spoken to each other were tense, having disagreed over something that now seemed trivial and ridiculous. He loved Alexander fiercely, and if he truly was alive, Hephaestion vowed to make sure that he knew that. He glanced over at his friends, receiving small smiles in return. They all wanted to believe the best.

Suddenly a cry arose throughout the crowd, growing progressively louder as the ship neared the shore. Hephaestion looked up, shaken from his daydream, and saw the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. As the ship docked, Alexander slowly raised his arm, letting all know that indeed he did live!

Cheers erupted from the men, many of them crying in sheer relief and joy, some stood silently with tears coursing down their faces. Even Craterus and his circle of friends was cheering.

It took everything Hephaestion had not to burst into tears right then and there, so relieved did he feel. Alexander was alive. His Alexander, his beloved, was there. He felt a warm hand settle on his shoulder and squeeze lightly. Ptolemy looked at Hephaestion knowingly, understanding how Hephaestion must have felt and recognizing how hard it was to remain stoic, and he smiled gently at him. Hephaestion returned the smile gratefully before turning his attention back to the ship.

The shield bearers got a litter to carry Alexander to shore and to take him to his tent. Apparently that was not good enough. Hephaestion watched, shocked and amazed, as a horse was brought to Alexander. He struggled to his feet and, with help, mounted the horse and made his way through the crowd. The cheering, clapping and crying was deafening, the joy of the men unimaginable. Alexander smiled and waved at them as he guided his horse towards his tent, led by Leonnatus and Peucestas, both of whom had obviously sustained injuries of their own. Perdiccas, the other bodyguards and the shield bearers followed behind him.

Hephaestion waited, standing near the dock close to Alexander's tent. He saw Alexander turning his head, scanning the crowd as if looking for something. Just then his eyes landed on Hephaestion. Their eyes met, and Hephaestion felt all the air leave his lungs, choking back a sob before quickly regaining his composure. Their eyes still locked on each other, Alexander slowly smiled and nodded in Hephaestion's direction.

To Hephaestion, it felt like the world had been handed to him on a golden platter. There was nothing else he desired…his beloved had returned to him.

Their King had returned. Gone were the doubts and fears. Gone was the discord and chaos. Gone was the confusion and frustration. All it took was a wave of Alexander's hand and a small smile to dispel all of it. The army was once again united with a single purpose, once again ready to give their all to Alexander.

Upon reaching his tent, Alexander dismounted, carefully, and walked to the entrance. Many moved close to touch him or toss him garlands of flowers. Others merely stood silent, praising the gods. As Alexander turned to face the crowd, more cheers erupted, more tears flowed. With a nod and a smile, he went inside, his guards closing the tent behind him.

Hephaestion and the other generals did their best to settle the men down and break up the elated crowd. After getting things back under control, they gathered together outside Alexander's tent. It was killing Hephaestion that he had not been able to see him yet, but first things first. Now that things were calm, he was desperate to see him.

Alexander's doctor, a man named Critodemus, emerged from the tent a short time later, wiping his hands on a towel. "The King wishes to see you" he said, addressing the generals, "but I will tell you that I do not want him stressed. He was very seriously hurt, and he took a big chance by making this trip. He needs to rest, so say what you must, but keep it short."

They all filed into the tent with Hephaestion bringing up the rear. He was almost afraid to see Alexander up close for reasons he was not sure of. But inside they went, all of them wearing huge smiles.

As Hephaestion entered the tent, he closed his eyes briefly, thanking the gods for their gift.

Straightening himself, he smiled and entered the inner chamber of the tent. Alexander awaited.


	8. Chapter 8

It was well into the evening when, one by one, the generals bid Alexander goodnight and left his tent. Hephaestion stood to leave with the others, not wanting to tire Alexander any further than he already was.

"Hephaestion…please, stay." Alexander smiled softly at him. The Kings' face was pale and drawn, his expression showing that he was obviously in pain. There were dark circles under his eyes and the blonde curls that Hephaestion loved so much were limp and dull. Hephaestion hesitated briefly before dropping down into the chair beside the bed.

"You really should rest, Alexander" he said gently. "We have orders from your doctor not to stress you."

Alexander chuckled softly, carefully repositioning himself as he sat on the bed, propped up on some pillows against the headboard. "I am fine, Hephaestion. Really I am."

Hephaestion shook his head, laughing. "Yes, I can see that" he smirked. Leaning over, he ran his fingers very lightly over the bandage that covered Alexander's chest. It had been bleeding again somewhat, a small crimson stain seeping through the thick bandage. "I should get the doctor. This needs to be rewrapped."

Alexander shook his head. "No, Hephaestion, really. I've just been moving a little too much. I promise I will rest now. You can at least keep me company a little longer, Phai…please. I've missed you."

Hephaestion stood and moved over to the bed, sitting carefully on the side. He leaned over and rested his forehead against Alexander's, closing his eyes. He could not stop the tears that suddenly began to flow down his face.

Alexander took Hephaestion's face gently in his hands and lifted it, gazing into his blue eyes. "What? What's this? Hephaestion? What's wrong?"

Hephaestion turned his head to the side, avoiding Alexander's eyes. He felt foolish for his reaction, but he could not stop it. He had held his emotions in check for so long, not allowing himself to feel anything at all or, gods forbid, let anyone see his vulnerability. But now…

He choked back a sob and buried his face in the crook of Alexander's neck. "I'm sorry…" he managed. "I'm sorry, Alexander."

"Ssshhh…it's okay, Hephaestion." Alexander kissed the top of Hephaestion's head and stroked his back tenderly. "Really, Hephaestion, I'm going to be okay."

Hephaestion took a deep breath, getting his emotions under control. He was angry at himself for falling apart in front of Alexander. The last thing he wanted to do was cause Alexander any distress. He pulled back slightly, a small smile on his lips. "I'm okay, Alexander. I'm just so relieved and so happy that you are here and alive." He gazed deeply into the eyes of the one he would lay down his life for and spoke quietly. "I thought I'd lost you."

Alexander took Hephaestion's face in his hands and kissed him gently before leaning back and smiling at him. "You'll never lose me, Hephaestion." He chuckled softly. "You know how stubborn I am. I'm not going anywhere." He reached up and brushed a loose strand of hair from Hephaestion's eyes. "I love you, Hephaestion. I've not said it enough lately, and I am sorry for that. You mean more to me than anything, and I'll not leave you. I promise."

Hephaestion leaned forward and kissed Alexander, a tender, lingering kiss. He could not get enough of touching him at the moment, though his hands moved very carefully for fear of hurting him. Releasing Alexander, he climbed onto the bed with him, sitting beside him with his back against the headboard, shoulders touching. He took Alexander's hand and laced their fingers together.

"Alexander, don't make promises you can't keep. You know as well as I that we can't promise something like that. We never know what the gods have in store for us. I would never leave you willingly, but sometimes the will of the gods is different from our own. You know as well as I that either of us could fall in battle at any time."

Alexander cocked his head and arched an eyebrow at Hephaestion, patting his bandaged chest with his hand. "Yes, I'm quite well aware of that" he smirked. "Seriously though, Hephaestion, I promise that I will never willingly leave you. That much at least I can promise."

Hephaestion smiled, leaning his head back against the headboard and closed his eyes. "And I make you the same promise, Alexander." He sat up again, his expression more serious. "Alexander, you can't do things like that anymore. What were you thinking?"

Alexander frowned slightly. "You sound like Craterus, gods forbid."

Hephaestion laughed lightly. "I'll forgive you for saying that. But truly, he only stated what the rest of us have been saying and thinking. We love you, Alexander, but you take too many risks sometimes. You aren't invincible, regardless of what you think."

Alexander smiled ruefully. "Fine. Message received. Now, if you are through fussing at me, I think I need to get some rest. Quite frankly, my love, I feel like shit."

Hephaestion leaned over and kissed him gently before climbing off the bed. "I will leave you to your rest. I love you, my reckless King. Now…sleep. I will see you in the morning. Health to you."

Hephaestion walked the short distance back to his tent, thanking the gods profusely for preserving the life of his friend, his king, his beloved Alexander. He would have Damon bring him a meal. He was hungry for the first time in a week.

Tonight, finally, he would sleep, free of his nightmares, and tomorrow he would greet the dawn with a smile.

Their sun would shine once more.

* * *

_(nope...no love scene. Our King is certainly not up to it. I'll save it for another story)_


End file.
